


At The Airport

by Soluvrly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Airport Setting, M/M, Misunderstanding, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soluvrly/pseuds/Soluvrly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the way back to Beacon Hills, Isaac Lahey has little luck with the airport but the wait is worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To The Rescue

It was supposed to be an easy trip. Fly down, attend the conference, fly back. Four days. Easy peasy. And everything was following that order of things until Isaac had gotten to the airport.

God had turned out to hate him that day. His bag was ‘overweight’ even though nothing was added to it, the reservation wasn’t in the system, the flight was overbooked, ‘please stand over here and let me fondle you sir,’ all happened. Isaac was pissed by the time he got to the gate for the last flight out of this shithole of a place.

At least the place had a coffee stand inside the security area where he was able to get a coffee and double—chocolate muffin. It didn’t fix his problems or make his anger go away but it did make him feel better. Grabbing his book out of his bag, Isaac sat in for his 5 hour wait for the flight.

————11pm————

“Attention ladies and gentlemen in gate3c,” the PA system intoned, “we deeply regret to inform you that tonight’s flight is cancelled due to mechanical problems. The flight will not be departing tonight. If you would like a hotel room, please come to the ticket desk. We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause.”

Isaac’s jaw drops open. “Inconvenience?” He asks, incredulously. Unconsiously, he begins to grasp his book tightly, tearing a few pages. “Dammit,” he said at the sound, before putting the book back in his bag.

Hearing someone laughing, Isaac looks up to see some douchebag stretched out over half a row of chairs with a pair of huge headphones on. Isaac huffs and glares at the guy before getting up and walking to the bathroom.

————2:34am————

Isaac jerks awake, blinking his eyes trying to get his bearings. His neck is killing him, there’s something stabbing him in the side, and his arm is asleep. Looking around he sees that some woman is jabbing her heel into his hip under the armrest, how she finds this comfortable, he doesn’t know. Standing, Isaac looks over and sees douchey out like a light and happier than a clam on top of the arm rests. “Seriously? How are you real?” Making a face, Isaac grabs his bag and finds some floor to snooze on.

————5:45am————

Isaac’s alarm begins to chirp. Jerking awake again, Isaac hits his head on the bottom of the chairs. “God dammit!” Clutching his head he rolls onto his side, “mother….” Before whining in pain and sitting up. Opening his eyes, Isaac notices someone staring at him. It’s none other than douchebag, but at least he isn’t laughing. He almost looks concerned.

“You alright?” Douchey asks, taking off his headphones. Isaac ends up following those long fingers with his eyes.

Snapping to the guys face, he swallows before he can speak, “I’ll… Uh, I’ll be fine.”

Nodding, the guy goes back to whatever he was doing. Writing probably.

Isaac stands up and stretches out. His suit is now just a lost cause, rumpled and wrinkled, partially untucked. With a sigh, Isaac pulls his dress shirt out entirely and just plops down in a chair with the odd feeling of being watched. Looking up, Isaac sees douchey staring. With a small gasp, the guy blushes and looks away.

Smirking, Isaac stretches out his legs and watches the guy. He’s trying to be sneaky with his glances, but that word isn’t in his vocabulary. Along with subtlety.

“Isaac,” he says, watching the guy splutter and look around.

“Wh..wha?” Is all the guy stutters out as he knocks everything in his lap to the floor with his flailing.

Getting out of his seat, Isaac helps douchey gather his things. They both grab the sketchbook at the same time, unfortunately, it’s face down so Isaac can’t see what’s in it. Letting go, Isaac stands and backs up to his seat. “My name,” he says, sitting down, “is Isaac. Yours?”

Sitting back down, douchey clutches the sketchbook to him, nodding his says, “Right, of course. I’m Stiles.”

Isaac’s smile drops off his face, “Right. If you didn’t want to talk, could have said so.” He reaches down and starts to get his stuff.

“Wait, no!” Stiles starts, trying to get untangled from his blanket. Seeing Isaac freeze and look up at him, Stiles stops struggling and takes a deep breath. “My given name was… Is difficult for like everyone to say. So…” Through the whole conversation Stiles hasn’t looked at Isaac, before finally meeting his eyes, “I go by Stiles. It’s easier that way.”

“Oh,” Isaac said, as his face burned with embarrassment. “Well, why don’t I buy you breakfast then, as an apology?

Stiles nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion, with a small smile on his face.

As Isaac stood in line, he began to get nervous. He didn’t even know this guy. And now he was three people away from ordering. Was he allergic to anything? Did he even like coffee? What was Isaac going to do? He couldn’t go back now, there was like 50 people behind him. (There weren’t, there was exactly 8.) Isaac stared to fidget where he was in line as the person at the till paid and moved aside. Two people.

“You didn’t ask what I wanted,” Stiles said, voice filled with amusement.

Blushing with embarrassment, Isaac looked at Stiles and bust out laughing causing everyone to stare at them wondering what was going on.

Recovering, Isaac regained his posture and composure. Through snickers, Isaac said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry but you are wearing a blanket like a cape.” It was actually adorable. Isaac may already be in love with him.

Stiles had begun to blush bright red when Isaac started laughing and everyone in the terminal started to stare. But then, as Isaac talked he was just relieved. “Well, I had to come save you so. Here I am.”

Isaac smiled ear to ear at Stiles, “oh and what’s your name, my hero?” He teased at the end, taking his smile to a smirk.

“Breakfast man,” Stiles answered to which several people in line, including Isaac; giggled at. Jerking his head, Stiles said, “your next.”

“Morning, how may I help you?” The barista asked, trying to control her smile.

“Morning,” Isaac said, “a large black drip coffee with room and a breakfast bagel. And whatever Breakfast Man wants.”

“And how can we help out hero today?”

Blushing, Stiles answered, “Um, medium macchiato. A bagel and cream cheese if you have it.”

“Anything else?” The barista asks, looking between the pair.

“No, that’s all,” Isaac answered, getting his wallet out.

“Ok, that’ll be…” Pressing the last of the buttons for the order, it pops up, “12.79.”

A chocking sound comes from behind Isaac as he slides his card through the reader. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Yes, please.”

“Your order will be ready at the end.”

“Thanks, have a good day,” Isaac nods at the barista before moving off.

“13 bucks for that?” Stiles starts off, “this better be great.”

Snorting, Isaac stands beside his hero, “Well, I’ll get reimbursed for all expenses.”

“Oh,” comes meekly from Stiles.

Isaac glances at Stiles to see what changed, but can’t figure anything out before their drinks are called out. Grabbing them, Isaac hands Stiles his macchiato.

“So, since you saved me,” he starts, adding cream and sugar to coffee, “do I get a kiss?”

Stiles begins sipping on his coffee after Isaac hands it to him, waiting for their food. At Isaac’s question, Stiles chokes on his coffee. Fortunately it wasn’t that big of a drink and it’s short but really. That type of question couldn’t get any other response.

“Dude, you’re hopeless,” a girl waiting by them mutters at Stiles, causing him to turn an even redder shade of colour.

“Hey, superhero, your food’s ready,” a guy behind the counter calls out, holding out two bags.

Picking up his coffee, Isaac walks over and gets the food. “Thanks.” Turning, Isaac walks over to Stiles who has his head down not looking anywhere but the floor and falls into step with Isaac on the way back.

Once Stiles got situated, Isaac handed him his bagel and resumed his seat across from him.

“Thanks,” Stiles says, staring into the bag.

Isaac stopped mid bite of his food and looked up at Stiles, who had suddenly seemed so down. Lowering the food, Isaac asked, “what’s wrong?”

“I embarrassed you back there,” stiles answered still not looking up.

“Do I look embarrassed?”

The question threw Stiles for a bit of a loop and he glanced up quickly before looking again. “Uhm, no.”

“Right.” Isaac confirmed with a small, comforting smile. “What do you do?” He asked, before taking that first bite finally.


	2. Blushes for Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little re-work is all it takes sometimes.

Stiles looked up at Isaac’s question, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunks with this bagel. Swallowing, Stiles answered, “Uhm, I’m a PI.”

Isaac stared at Stiles, trying to figure out what ‘PI’ meant. Taking a drink of his coffee, Isaac finally decided to just ask.

Blushing, Isaac swallowed before saying, “What is a PI?”

For the first time since the pair had returned to their seats, Stiles finally looked up at Isaac.

Stiles swallowed and did his best to suppress a shudder as he stared at Isaac and his blush. The problem is that Isaac’s pale skin and blush reminded him of the painting of the _Ophelia_. It was very morbid really, looking at Isaac and thinking of a ‘dead’ woman. Or maybe, with those curls he was an angel. Or Cupid. He could work with Cupid.

Having Stiles stare at him made Isaac feel self-conscious and only added to his embarrassment and darkening his blush.

Shaking his head, stiles perked up, “Private investigator, I was finishing up some stuff for a client.”

“Oh,” Isaac answered, feeling the heat begin to bleed off his face with Stiles talking to him again, “Do you stay busy with that?”

“Sometimes,” Stiles answered abruptly, looking back at the floor and finishing his bagel.

“Oh.” Isaac answered, sounding confused and disappointed. Isaac had no clue what was happening. After the incident at the coffee stand, Stiles had been acting a bit differently. Chewing on the last bite of his food, he began to come up with a plan to shift things back.

After the pair finished eating, Isaac got up and offered to take Stiles’ trash.

Looking up at Isaac, Stiles swallows before stuttering out, “Thanks.”

Smiling, Isaac takes the trash with a shrug.

After throwing everything away, Isaac carries out the plan he came up with while eating. He returns to his seat and bends over instead of kneeling to get his bag. When he stands up back up with the bag, he turns around and sees stares staring and gaping like a fish. Smirking, Isaac saunters over and sits down beside Stiles.

“Hi,” Isaac says, smiling at the clearly flustered Stiles.

“Um,” Stiles responds, licking his lips. He doesn’t miss the way Isaac glances down at his lips. “Hi.”

“I’m Isaac,” he says, tearing his eyes away from Stiles’ lips, “Finally get to go home today. Hopefully,” he added on after a pause as he looked over Stiles’ shoulder to the ticket desk to ensure the plane was still on schedule this morning.

“Stiles,” he said with a bashful smile, “Trying to get back to Beacon Hills myself.

“Oh? What do you do there?” Isaac asks, turning a little in his chair.

“I’m a PI,” Stiles answered, fiddling with his sketchbook. “A private investigator.” Taking a breath, Stiles looks at Isaac again with a shy smile, “And thanks.”

Returning the smile, Isaac says, “Your welcome. And I meant it when I said I wasn’t embarrassed. I’m the only one here that had a superhero save him.” Feeling a bit more confident, Isaac sat forward in his chair until he was just about an inch away from Stiles’ cheek and whispered, “Can I give you a kiss?”

Stiles became frozen when Isaac started to lean forward, when he stopped so close, Stiles suspected what was to happen and felt his face flush. It took Stiles a moment to realize what Isaac had asked and nodded his agreement.

Closing the distance, Isaac placed a soft, chaste kiss on Stiles’ cheek while he slipped his business card into his hand. Sitting back in his chair, Isaac smiled at the gobsmacked Stiles.

“We should get dinner,” Isaac stated with more bravado than he actually felt. He was a ball of nerves on the inside.

Stiles sat in stunned silence; unconsciously his hand reached up and touched his cheek. This type of stuff only happened on TV. Slowly, Stiles felt himself smile, “Ok.”

“Attention ladies and gentleman, we would like to thank you for your patience and understanding over the cancelled flight. The flight to Beacon Hills is on schedule this morning. We will begin boarding procedures in ten minutes. Again, we thank you for your patience and understanding.”


End file.
